


Hope

by AltruisticSkittles



Series: The First Illuminated [6]
Category: Thomas Sanders
Genre: Arguing, Gen, Sarcasm, Self depreciation, Toxic Relationships, basically how Belial met Emile, like a lot of sarcasm, sympathetic deceit, there's almost a fight but it's stopped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 15:18:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14772125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AltruisticSkittles/pseuds/AltruisticSkittles
Summary: Belial is tired of not feeling. That’s why at 3 am, he finds himself scrolling through a bunch of therapist ads to try and get his life straightened out. One particular name catches his eye, and he decides to give him a chance.At this point, this Dr. Emile Picani guy seemed like his only hope.





	Hope

**Author's Note:**

> And this is out rather fast because I somehow lit a fire on Tumblr.
> 
> Anyway, here’s a little ficlet on how Emile and Belial met. It’s nothing major, but it’s a start. If I am known for anything besides angst, it’s slowburns :)
> 
> Enjoy~

Car horns blared through the city as he watched life move without him. Ever since he was born, everyone was two hundred steps ahead of him, and no matter what he did, he couldn’t seem to catch up. His hands rubbed numb, bare arms. Only the cool winter air gave him a sense of feeling at all.

Arms hesitantly wrapped around his waist, and he froze at the touch. The fake mark on his chest glowed. He brought one of their hands up to kiss the back of it, and his lips pulled into a smile.

“You’re doing it again,” she purred into his ear.

The mark on his chest dulled, and he sighed. Her smile fell as well, and she slid her hands over his back in a circular motion.

“As far as I’m concerned, it’s not your business,” he replied with a calm demeanor.

“Is it because you hate me?” she asked.

“Yes,” he replied. He took a deep breath. “And no.”

She huffed through her nose and rested her forehead on his back. “Come inside, Belial. I’m cold.”

“Then put on a shirt.”

“You’re such a jerk,” she chuckled and walked back inside. Belial watched her go, and the mark lit up on his chest again. He tap- tap- tapped his fingers on the balcony railing and pursed his lips.

What did he feel toward her? It certainly wasn’t love, but it wasn’t hatred. He wished his fausmark would be useful for once and tell him why it glowed. Emotions were never his forte.

Still, he did as he was told and followed her inside. She patted the side of the bed he left vacated and laid down. Belial rested beside her, instinctively wrapping an arm around her as she rested on his chest. Her finger twisted around the x pattern that glowed on and off on his chest like a lighthouse spun underneath it, and took in a deep breath.

“You’re one messed up son of a bitch,” she mumbled.

“You’re no saint yourself,” he sent back with a chuckle.

She hummed in agreement. “True, but at least I know what I’m feeling toward you.”

That stung more than he’d like to admit, but he said nothing. His relationship with her was strictly sexual. Just two people at work who happened to have too much free time and too much frustration to vent.

It was the second closest thing to a loving relationship he ever had.

“Did you ever think of going to therapy to fix that broken brain of yours?” she asked.

“Why would I waste the money?” he shot back and raised a brow.

“Because otherwise, you’re a waste of space.”

“Ouch.”

“You know I say that in the most loving way.”

“Of course. Just as toxic in love as you are in real life.”

“I do have a reputation to uphold.”

He inhaled and exhaled, watching her eyes slip closed. He took in a deep breath and stared at the ceiling.

Maybe a therapy session was what he needed. He was already at rock bottom, so it couldn’t get worse.

That’s why, at 3 am, he found himself scrolling through therapist names in his area. He found a few that were okay, he guessed, but one really stuck out to him.

Apparently, this Picani guy had set up shop in his little brother’s coffee cafe. Every review of him was positive, which was something he hadn’t run into with the others. Many praised his truly open-minded thinking, helpful ways to approaching the problem, and comfortable yet professional arua that was easy to converse with.

So that’s why at 5 am, he pushed Mara off of him and walked out toward a small little coffee shop at the end of town. It wasn’t far from the apartment, at least.

He just hoped this wasn’t a huge mistake.

Belial stepped inside and glanced up at the little bell above the door. That had to get annoying real fast. He sighed through his nose and looked around. It looked… quaint enough. He walked toward the counter and leaned on the front.

For a coffee shop, this place sure was dead at 6 in the morning.

He glanced down at the tiny bell on the counter and hummed. With a flick of his index finger, he rang the bell twice.

There was a thump before a muffled cry of pain.

“One moment, please,” a voice called back. Belial tapped his fingers on the counter and glanced at the prices of coffee on the sign. He watched someone with faded purple hair step out of the back and put oven mitts on the counter, and they opened their mouth to speak-

“You work here?” Belial asked. He scanned the name tag, which read “Thomas.”

The question caught Thomas off guard, and he nodded his head. “Um, yes, can I help you?”

“I’m looking for an Emily Picani,” Belial replied. The name brought a smile to Thomas’s face.

“It’s pronounced Eh-meal,” Thomas corrected.

“Yes, whatever,” Belial grumbled through his nose. “Can you tell me where he is or not?”

“Well, right now, I think he’s upstairs. His first appointment isn’t for another hour or so- hey wait, you can’t just go up there!”

Belial waved a hand at Thomas and started climbing the stairs. Thomas grabbed his hand, and Belial turned to glance over his shoulder.

“Can you let go?”

“That’s their house. You can’t just go up without asking,” Thomas spoke, his voice low but calm.

Belial pulled his grip out of Thomas’s hand and hummed. He was about to continue up the stairs when he heard an all too familiar voice speak from the back, followed by rapid footsteps.

“What’s going on out there?”

Their eyes locked, and a forgotten pain lit up in Belial’s chest. He turned his hurt into a cocky smile, and his head tilted to the side.

“Oh, well, isn’t this a surprise.”

“What are you doing here?” Virgil growled and clenched both his hands into fists.

“Oh, just looking around.”

Thomas’s head glanced between the two of them, and his curiosity rose, but he didn’t dare ask any questions. Belial retreated down the stairs and started walking toward Virgil.

“You stay away-”

“Oh don’t worry. I lost interest in you years ago.”

“Get. Out.”

“How accommodating. No wonder this shop is empty. With manners like that, you must drive everyone away.”

“I swear if you don’t-”

“You’ll what?”

Virgil’s body moved forward, but Thomas’s gentle palm stopped him. His glare turned on Thomas, and the latter swallowed hard.

“Please, no fighting in here,” Thomas spoke. Virgil could feel Thomas’s pulse in his chest. Or maybe that was his own. He didn’t know, and he didn’t care.

Virgil opened his mouth to retort, but he closed it soon after. His eyes widened, and his jaw slowly opened in shock. No, he had to be seeing things.

Belial furrowed his brows at the strange reaction. He noticed Thomas was watching him curiously too, and his lips pulled into a frustrated line.

“Everything okay down here?” a voice called from the stairs. It was followed by a yawn.

Belial turned. His body froze as his eyes set upon a green soulmark he thought he’d only dreamed about.

The person stopped on the bottom step, his eyes wide and the breath caught in his chest.

“Oh, you’re-”

“You exist-”

Both paused as they spoke at once. Belial took a hesitant step back, but he masked it as losing his balance a bit.

The ghost from his past stopped short of greeting him. He chewed on his bottom lip as he tried to contain a smile.

“Hello,” he greeted and held out his hand. “Dr. Emile Picani. And you are?”

“In denial,” Belial replied. The answer made Emile laugh, and he shook his head.

“Okay, in denial, it’s nice to meet you.”

Annoyance spread over Belial’s face, and he cleared his throat. “Yes, well, ironically, you’re the person I was looking for.”

“Oh?” Emile tilted his head a bit. It made Belial feel rather uncomfortable.

“Yes. I was… looking for a therapist.”

“Well, you’ve come to the right place, but if it’s okay with you, I want to ask you a few questions first.”

Belial shrugged and sighed, “I’m so eager to answer.”

“Great! Hope you don’t mind chim-chim-cher-shimmying off to my office in the corner then.”

Belial blinked. Was this guy for real? He must still be asleep in Mara’s bed because this guy was something only his twisted imagination could make up.

Nevertheless, he followed Emile in, leaving a speechless Virgil and his dumbfounded friend behind.

Emile closed the door behind him and flipped a red switch. Belial glanced around. The room was encased with soundproof padding by the door and pastel blue walls with all sorts of childish posters on them. A tiny waterfall trickled in the corner, and the lighting was not too dark but just bright enough to see what was going on. Two couches sat facing each other with a coffee table in the middle. Behind the one couch was a desk with a computer, and ambient music played in the background.

Emile sat down on one of the couches and gestured for Belial to sit on the other side. Belial sat down, noting how comfortable the couch was, and took in a deep breath.

“So-”

“You were the one at the park. The one who helped me into the ambulance, weren’t you?”

Emile blinked and let out a light laugh. “Yeah, that was me. Glad to see you’re better now.”

Belial swallowed hard. “You never came back.”

“Hmm?”

Belial’s anger simmered in his stomach. He tried again, “The park. You never came back.”

“To… check on you?” Emile asked. Belial contemplated getting up and leaving right then and there.

“Yes,” No? “I didn’t see you there again. I wanted to thank you.”

“Well, that was the year right before I graduated, so I was probably pretty busy.”

The news quieted Belial’s voice but not his thoughts. He crossed his arms over his chest and blew a stray strand of hair out of his eyes.

“What, not interested in finding out why your soulmark was glowing?”

“It was?” Emile blinked.

“Wha- yes. It’s doing it right now.”

Maybe he was blind? Wouldn’t that be a cruel irony to have a soulmark on the eyes but not be able to see.

Emile stood and walked to his desk. He rummaged through a drawer before pulling out a small mirror and gasping. Gentle fingers caressed his eyes, and he closed his lips.

“And at last I see the light,” Emile mused. He put down the mirror and smiled. “I guess we’re soulmates after all.”

“I don’t need an unrequited soulmate right now.”

“Unrequited?” Emile laughed. “I hate to break it to you, but we are full soulmates, platonic or romantic.”

“Plato-what?” Belial blinked.

Emile handed the mirror over to Belial, who had to do a double take. A gold (maybe yellow?) glow slithered around his eye, caressed his cheeks, and slid down his neck, right to where his fausmark was. But that was impossible. He didn’t have a soulmark.

“What kind of trick is this?” Belial asked, surprised to find the tattoo on his tongue as well.

“It’s no trick,” Emile replied.

“But I don’t have a soulmark.”

Emile hummed and rubbed his chin. “You know, my little brother has an invisible soulmark, and you can only see it when one of his soulmates are around. Maybe yours is just like it.”

How fitting. Someone who lies for a living had a soulmark that deceived him all his life. Belial chuckled at the cruel irony and shook his head.

“Well, how about that.” He wasn’t worthless after all. Well, at least, not when it came to having a soulmate.

Emile took his seat once again across from Belial, and he pulled out a notepad and pencil. “Well, now that that’s out of the way, would you like to begin?”

Belial shrugged. “Sure.”

“So,” Emile adjusted his glasses with his pen tip. “What’s your favorite color.”

Belial blinked. “I hope you know we’re not on a date.”

“Oh, I know,” Emile replied. “My methods are a bit off-color. So… do you have one?”

Belial thought for a moment. “Gray.”

“Huh, so I’m guessing I shouldn’t expect you to be back?” Belial rose a brow as Emile continued, “People who like gray are usually afraid of commitment, are indecisive, and can take or leave most things.”

Belial blinked. Was he? He shook his head. There was no way a color could mean that much anyway.

“I just picked the color of my… well of a coworker’s mark.”

“Hmm, picking the color of what I’m assuming to be a friend’s tattoo. Is that what drew you to them?”

We’re not really friends, Belial wanted to say. Instead, he answered, “Not really. I guess you could say we understand each other on a personal level.”

“I see. And what exactly do you bond over?”

“We both got the short end of the stick in life.”

Understatement of the year.

Belial watched as Emile wrote on his pad, entranced by the way he bit the corner of his lips as he thought. He folded one leg over the other and leaned back into the couch behind him.

“And about what time did you fuse?”

The question caught Belial off in more ways than one, and he let out a long “uh” before responding, “Fuse?”

“When did you two first get together.”

“Maybe I wasn’t clear about why I wanted to be here, but I don’t want relationship advice, nor am I looking for a new one.”

Emile’s glasses slid down his nose a bit as he looked up, shock evident on his face. “Oh, I’m sorry. I misunderstood-”

“It’s fine. I can tell you do this all the time.”

Emile took in a deep breath and set his notebook off to the side. His emerald eyes stared straight into Belial’s and he asked, “Then what do you want out of these sessions?”

Belial took a deep breath. He hadn’t thought it through, honestly. Was it because he wanted to, or because he had an insane desire to discover himself? His mind kept passing over one word.

“I’m a compulsive liar,” he replied. “I’d like to stop.”

Emile’s popped his lips. “Okay, that’s doable. It’s going to take a lot more effort from you than me though. Is that okay?”

“Of course,” Belial said with a roll of his eyes. “I am looking forward to every moment.”

“Good! Well, unfortunately, I’m running out of time, because I have another session starting soon. So, I’m going to have to say goodbye for right now.”

Belial watched Emile stand and blinked. Did he just get rejected? It sure felt like it. He took in a deep breath and stood as well.

“Well, thanks for nothing-”

“When do you want to make your next appointment?”

Belial blinked as a wide grin spread across Emile’s face. It lit up the room like the sun peeking in the window of the coffee shop.

“Uh, sometime in the morning maybe?”

“I can schedule you in for my Tuesday 8 am meeting. My last person canceled their sessions, so the spot is open at the moment.”

“Sounds fun.”

“So should I write you down as Mr. In Denial?”

Belial let a half grin pull the corner of his lips. “Actually, it’s Belial. Belial Ceitful.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Belial.” Emile held out his hand to lead Belial out with a slight bow. “I hope to see you again soon.”

Belial tipped his hat before sliding past Emile and out into the coffee shop. He caught one last look at Virgil, grinned with a wink, and reveled in the bristle that shook Virgil’s entire body with anger.

He caught one last look at Emile, who watched his every move toward the door, and blew a kiss. The other stiffened at the unexpected gesture, but he didn’t look disgusted. That was a change of pace.

Perhaps this Emile person would be more entertaining than he hoped.

**Author's Note:**

> For more on the Illuminated universe, check out my Tumblr @altruistic-skittles


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